Regression
by YoodleLayHeeHoo
Summary: Wendy has her coming out ball as she comes of age sixteen. But what happens when the young lady approaching womanhood refuses to leave her childish thoughts behind? Please read! First Timer but it's good! promise! :


**Title**: Regression

**Author**: poeticdownfall

**Summary**: Wendy has her coming out ball as she comes of age sixteen. But what happens when the young lady approaching womanhood refuses to leave her childish thoughts behind?

**Rating**: M

**Disclaimer**: You know the drill, I don't even see the purpose for these retarded things. ME NO OWN! Clear enough for you?

**AN**: This is my FIRST TIME doing this fanfiction thing. I have written before and read PLENTY O STORIES on this site but this is my first time actually writing. PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK HONESTLY! Thanks a bunch: )

**AN PART TWO!**: The first few chapters will only be rated on PG level ish thing, so yea!

Chapter One

"Wendy dear! It's time to rise and shine and greet this wonderful morning!"

Wendy groaned and turned away from the voice inturrupting her dreams, her only outlet of relief. "What?" she mumbled into the pillow.

"It's time to prepare for your ball tonight!"

Another groan escaped her lips as her aunt danced back out of her room and a pile of boys ran in all at the same time, increasing the noise level several decibels.

"Wendy! Wendy! Wendy!"

"WEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Get your FOOT out of MY face!"

Wendy sat up, rubbing her eyes clear of sleep, her hope of sleeping in completely out the window. She fondled the chain around her neck, watching the wrestling pile of limbs and feet. The acorn was still dented and still carried the scent of her real home, Neverland. She kissed it before hopping off her bed to calm the boys down.

"Hush now! Aunt will be back any moment expecting me to be perfectly dressed!" she warned.

Micheal, the youngest, poked out his bottom lip in a puppy dog pout. "Aw! But Wendy we wanted you to finish the story you started last night!" he complained.

The other boys quickly agreed, nodding furiously.

Wendy sighed, eyeing the door cautiously as if her aunt could appear out of nowhere. She turned her attention back to the boys begging on their knees. She smiled. "I will. . . but it must be quick!" They let out a cheer of happiness before jumping onto her bed and getting comfortable. "Now, where were we?"

"We were just at the part where Peter Pan swooped in out of nowhere and scared the willies out of Hook!" Curly cheered, throwing his fists into the air.

"Oh yes. . . how could I forget?" She cleared her throat. "Hook didn't know what to do! He was cornered on his own pirate ship with nowhere to turn, his rival, Peter Pan standing with his hands on his hips and a victorious smile as if he had already won!"

"Peter Pan!" John cried in a gruff voice, taking on the role as Peter Pan.

"Captain Hook!" Micheal jumped up, getting into the stance.

"Ah! So we meet again!" John glared, curling his right hand into a hook formation.

Wendy giggled. "The man and boy faced each other off, neither knowing which was to move first! Until Peter lashed out quickly, scarring Hook on his left arm.

"Ready to lose the other one?" Micheal cried happily, playing out the scene. He then brought his fingers to his lips in a shrill whistle. "Fairies!" he called.

"Aw! We always gotta be the stupid fairies!" Tootles moaned.

"Fairies are not stupid!" Wendy said gently, smoothing his hair down. "Now, run along and finish the battle while I change, okay?"

The boys let out a battle cry and charged from the room and back into the nursery. She watched them leave with sad eyes. Tonight would be the night she lost that child like innocence. She would be forced to forget all tales of magical lands and flying boys and put into proper schools to teach her how to be a respectable woman in London society.

She walked over to the window. Yet another night had gone by in the three years he had promised to visit but never did. She locked the window with a tear rolling down her cheek. It was time to say goodbye.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Wendy you still aren't changed into your gown? Oh, what to do with you?"

Wendy rolled her eyes. "Mother, we still have almost five hours until the party. . . surely that's enough time?"

Her mother shook her head. "Not with your aunt's standards. She has invited almost every avalible young man in London to this party! You should be ready to meet your future husband!"

Wendy cringed on the inside at the thought of someone replacing the one that had already stolen her heart. She gave a fake smile to her mother. "I am excited!" she exclaimed.

Mrs. Darling smiled, kissing her daughter softly on the forehead. "Oh. . . my only daughter, coming of age! How old I feel on this night! And yet. . . I can remember my own party in which I celebrated this very thing!"

Wendy smiled at her mother's memories. "Did you meet father there?"

With a smile, she nodded. "Yes. . . and was he ever nervous! Your father wasn't always the smooth talker he has turned out to be!"

Wendy scoffed. "Father? A smooth talker?" she laughed.

Mrs. Darling laughed softly with her. "Don't put your father down all the way. . . he is trying you know!"

"Yea. . . but. . . Mother, I have a question. . . how do you know if you've met the right one?" she asked, suddenly finding the floor to be a rather interesting subject to watch as if the floor would somehow give her the answer.

"Your heart my dear. Your heart will tell you," she smiled. "But for now. . . YOU need to get ready. No point in having something else for your aunt to worry about, eh?"

Wendy nodded. "Thank you mother. . . I will now. . . "

With a quick kiss goodbye, Mrs. Darling left her daughter to attend to other party matters. _My heart?_ Wendy thought when her mother left. _But. . . how do I know that my heart is telling me? What will it do?_

She worried about this concept well into the afternoon when her aunt and mother returned for her make up, her stomache growling terribly. She remembered she had had nothing to eat all day. "Mother, may I please have something to eat?" she asked, batting her eyelashes sweetly.

Unable to deny that face, she nodded, calling Micheal in. 

"What is it mother?" he asked, his hair curled up in a tangly mess, his clothes sitting crooked on his shoulders.

"Get your sister something to eat. . . and fix yourself! What has happened to you?"

Micheal shrugged. "Hook!" was all he said before bounding down the stairs to carry out his mother's wishes.

Aunt Millicent shook her head. "That child is a mess. . . and you shouldn't encourage it!" she scolded upon seeing Wendy's shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Whatever do you mean Aunt?" she asked innocently.

"These stories you are telling them! A proper young lady doesn't bring up silly stories about pirates and fairies and stupid flying men!"

"Oh but Aunt! Peter Pan is not a man! He is a boy!" Wendy corrected matter of factly, watching her aunt's expression in the mirror.

Rolling her eyes, she drug the brush harshly through her hair. "What ever he is. . . these silly fairy tales shall end TONIGHT!"

Wendy gasped. How could she stop telling stories when she was to be an aspiring novelist? She turned around to face her aunt. "Why?" she cried.

Millicent only shook her head and pointed Wendy's face in the correct direction. "A proper lady does not protest either. . . " she said.

Micheal ran in skipping, his hair bouncing on his head. He went to his sister and saw her sad expression. He looked up at his aunt and glared, sending her daggers through his eyes. "Here you go sissy!" he said, not taking his eyes away from the monster.

"Thank you. . ." Wendy said softly, biting into the soft crossaint.

"You may leave now Micheal, your sister has a lot of preparing to do!" Aunt Millicent smiled.

Micheal gave an encouraging smile to his sister before running away from Mrs. Darling who was chasing after him to fix his clothes.

"Ah. . . you and me now child!" Millicent smiled.

Wendy nodded, still eating her meal.

"Tell me. . . do you have your eye on any boy here in London?" she asked as if they were girlfriends chatting at a slumber party.

Wendy could tell her aunt of Peter and how he was more than just a story tale fantasy. She could tell her how she stayed at her window most every single night praying for him to drop from that lovely star. She could also take the knife that cut the butter and stab herself with it, which would be about the same thing. So she shook her head. "No Aunt, I have noone imparticular. . . "

"Good! It's always good to have your options open!"

A shrill cry ran through the hallway as Nibs ran into the room, closing the door with a slam and locking it tightly. "Nibs! What is the matter?" Wendy asked, jumping from her chair to the frightened child.

He panted, drawing in sharp breaths. "Father. . . chasing. . . tie. . . no!"

Wendy shook her head at him. He had scared her for nothing. "You have to wear the tie tonight!" she told him, hugging him to her.

"Aw, but sissy. . . ties are horrid! They choke the life out of you!" he cried.

Wendy touched the tight corset tied around her tiny waist and knew what he meant. Sacrificies must be made for beauty is what Millicent always said.

"You need to leave your sister be! She has wasted enough time as it is. Run along and do as your father says! A respectable gentleman never disobeys!" Millicent preached.

Nibs threw his sister a disgusted look. "Do I haveta?"

Wendy nodded with a smile. "It's only for tonight. . . " Then she whispered in his ear. "I'll let you take it off at the party. . ."

Nibs grinned, nodding happily. "OKAY!" he smiled, unlocking the door to find a not too happy Mr. Darling waiting for him. He gulped and followed his father with his head bent down.

And so the night wore on...

/\/\/\/\/\

Peter Pan was not in Neverland as Wendy thought. He was much closer than she could ever imagine. As she twirled in her wall length mirror, admiring the work her aunt and mother had done, he watched her. As he had done every night without discovery. He never showed himself in fear of her chasing him away, wanting to grow up without him, in peace.

Tinkerbell sighed, sitting quite bored on his shoulder. "Come on already!" she hissed in bell tone.

"We're not leaving!" he yelled harshly, his temper getting the best of him.

Wendy gasped turning around on her heel to look for something she had heard. Peter clamped and hand over his mouth, glaring at his fairy friend for giving them away. He stayed hidden in the shadows outside her balcony window. "Hello?" she called. "Is anybody there?"

It was all Peter could do to not jump out at her with his arms out, proclaiming himself. But he dared not. It was not worth Wendy's anger. Plus, what was he going to do?

Wendy sighed. "I am so silly. . . to think that he remembers me at all. . . " she murmered.

Peter put his ear to the window, listening to her conversation with herself. "Who's he?" he wondered aloud softly.

"I shall never see his face again. . . I will grow old and he will never be here again. . . I am alone without him forever. Why can't I understand that?" she cried, fingering the acorn around her neck. She sadly reached around her neck and undid the chain. Peter watched horrified as she set it on a dresser, tears rolling down her rather pink cheeks.

"No. . . " he muttered, fingering the thimble around his neck.

She turned to the window, Peter ducking out of the way just in time. He flew above the window just as she opened it. With a sad and tearful face, she stared at the second star to the right. "Goodbye Peter. . . " she sniffed. "Thank you for the best adventure of my life." She took a moment to wipe her tears. "Love. . . "

Peter gasped, unable to help himself. Wendy's eyes went up and caught him flying there, petrified, too afraid to move.

"P-Peter. . . is that you?" she called in a shaky voice.

"Um. . . " He couldn't think of a word to say to the beauty before him. He had seen her dressed up before, but this, this was something different! She even resembled a, dare he say it, fairy!

"Peter! Please! Answer me?" She cried.

Without one word to her, he fly up and out of her view but not completely away. He was close enough to hear her let out a small laugh and hear her say, "I must be crazy. . . he doesn't love me. . . " and heard her close the window.

He let out a breath of relief before his thoughts went to that one word she had murmered ever so softly. Love. What was it? Coud it explain the happiness he felt when she was near him, the sadness he felt when she was away, the jealousy he felt when he thought of another beside her? Was that love? If it was, he wanted nothing to do with it. Feelings were too much pain for a boy to deal with.

But as his first nightly visits turned into day long adventures, he noticed his boyish traits slip into something more deeper that he couldn't explain. His hair had grown longer and where it used to be bare, there was new thin blonde hair. His fingers and hands were widened and had more callouses, no longer the smooth gentle skin. And he had more than once smacked his head on the Underground Home's doorway. He doubted if this happened to a normal boy.

But these thoughts were not awake in his mind at the moment. He was thinking, rather loudly, why he couldn't suck it up and make his presence known to the only one who it mattered to. His suspisons of her chasing him away were long forgotton after seeing the tears he had annitiated on those soft pale cheeks. Tonight, he decieded, tonight would be the end of those tears.


End file.
